


V.I.P. Treatment

by beedekka



Category: Grand Theft Auto: The Ballad of Gay Tony
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:12:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedekka/pseuds/beedekka
Summary: Luis and Tony make the most of some time alone afterhours at Hercules.





	V.I.P. Treatment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angledust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angledust/gifts).



The lights outside Hercules were already off when Luis drove up in the early hours. The door was closed and shuttered, and Troy was nowhere to be seen. Luis frowned. It must have been another bad night, which was something they really didn’t need. _Fuck_. Maybe Tony was right and the boat had well and truly sailed on the party scene in the meat-packing district.

He parked the Schafter on the sidewalk and let himself inside. The alarm countdown didn’t kick in, so either the idiot staff forgot to lock up properly or someone was still around. He was hoping it was Tony himself, cashing up in the office, because if his partner wasn’t here at the club then Luis actually had no idea where he was, and with everything that was going on at the moment that wasn’t a very comfortable thought.

Walking into the main room, the lounge and dancefloor were in darkness, but the bar was still illuminated. A lone figure sat at the patron side with his chin resting on one palm and the other cradling a drink. Yep, there was that feeling of relief uncoiling somewhere deep in Luis’s core. “Hey, Tone.”

“Hey, Lou.”

“Slow night?”

“The slowest.”

“How long have you been here?”

Tony laughed, and Luis knew he must have come across as subtle as Brucie Kibbutz with that one. “Don’t worry,” Tony answered, “I’m not about to fall off the stool. I’ve been doing more thinking than I have drinking tonight.”

“Everyone else gone?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Luis slipped onto the seat next to him and looked over the bar. The registers were open and empty, the fridges full and humming quietly. “Taking a moment, huh?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“It’s peaceful.”

“You want a drink?” Tony asked.

Luis rolled his shoulders into a stretch and thought about it. After all the running around he’d done over the last few hours, something to take the edge off and wind down with would be nice. He nodded and was getting up to go and serve himself when Tony caught his arm.

“Hey, I just offered you, didn’t I? So stay there, Mr. ‘I gotta do everything in this partnership’.”

“Okay.” Luis held his hands up. “V.I.P. treatment – I like that!”

“The usual?”

“You know it.”

Tony went to the end of the bar and ducked under the hatch, and it struck Luis how easy his movements were behind the counter as he took up a glass and served the cognac, flipping a napkin down for it and everything. Luis couldn’t quite tell if that was autopilot or if Tony was messing with him for the V.I.P. comment, but either way it was one of those little reminders he got every so often that he wasn’t the only one who’d made it to where he was by working his way up.

Having poured himself another whiskey while he was there, Tony came to retake his seat, pressing a quick touch to Luis’s hip as he moved behind him. “You okay?” he asked, catching Luis’s eye as he sat down.

“Yeah, why? Oh, you’re giving me the ‘you look like shit’ nod, huh?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to put it exactly like that, Lou, but… pretty much.”

“Ha! Thanks, man.” Luis shook his head, leaning into Tony’s arm as he manoeuvred it to rest properly around his lower back. “I think it’s your wonderful comments of love and support that I’m really coming to treasure about our relationship.”

Tony chuckled. “The basis of any solid partnership: the ability to let the other person know when they look like they just got back from a harrowing shoot out, or like a useless drunk whose business is about to go down the fucking toilet because they spent a lot of other people’s money on diamonds and drugs.”

“We should try and get in on the self-help literature market with that; maybe it could solve some of our cashflow problems.”

“The book title is, ‘How to fuck while getting fucked and being fucked.’”

“That’s very catchy, Tone - a very succinct use of language.”

“You can take the boy out of Dukes, but I guess you can’t take Dukes outta the boy.” Tony tipped his glass at their reflection in the mirror behind the speed-rack, a wry smile curling his lips. Then he tossed back the whiskey and turned to catch Luis’s eye again. “Come on, then. Get caught up.”

Luis swallowed his brandy. “What’s next? Same thing?”

“Eh, I haven’t kept an immaculately stocked bar like this just to watch half of those beauties go to waste. I feel like we have to christen at least _some_ more of them before I write it all off as getting damaged in a fire and claim on the insurance.”

“You’re a piece of work, T.”

“And you love me for it, right?”

Luis watched Tony scanning the shelves, occasionally pausing to squint at the fine print on the labels.

“Fucking Havana Club,” he murmured. “The pretty boys used to drink Mai Tais like water – everyone you kissed tasted of it.”

“Good times?”

“Oh yeah, better than the Blue Hawaii era, that’s for sure. I wasn’t sorry to see that one go out of fashion.”

Luis laughed. “What was wrong with those? Wait, don’t tell me…”

“They gave a whole new meaning to ‘the morning after blues’.”

“Oh, man, I said _don’t_ tell me.”

“I didn’t tell, I insinuated. I euphemised. Is that a bottle of Galliano back there?”

“Looks like.”

“Okay, then that’s what’s next. Well, not only that.” Tony hopped up and ducked behind the bar again, snagging the Galliano and some Cherenkov off the shelf and then bending to find another ingredient from the fridges. “This one’s a doozy. Vodka over ice”—Tony poured a couple of very generous shots into two tall glasses, followed by a big slosh of orange juice—“and then gently, gently…” He floated a layer of the bright Galliano liqueur onto the top of each one, grinning in satisfaction when it didn’t sink. “That, my friend, is a Harvey Wallbanger. Welcome to 1985!”

“So, it’s a vodka orange with some extra fancy shit? 1985 really knew how to party.”

“Uh-uh, it’s a _Screwdriver_ with some extra fancy shit, ‘cause what 1985 really knew how to do was up-sell cheap vodka and a carton of orange concentrate. The Galliano is just double up-selling; as long as you could get the knack of floating it, you were golden.”

“You really did used to do all of this, didn’t you? Like, night in, night out?”

Tony shrugged. “You gotta start somewhere in this business. I was a good talker, fast hands, and people tip big if you’re mixing cocktails. It was an easy way in for me.” He picked up an empty shaker and twirled it on his palm a few times before stopping it mid spin and setting it down on the bar with a flourish.

“Well, I’m impressed enough to tip.”

“Funny how muscle memory works. Notice how I’m _not_ trying that out with the full bottle though. I figure I’ve had a long time to get amnesia for the trickier stuff.” Tony slid one of the cocktails across for Luis. “How’s it taste?”

Luis leaned down like he was about to take a sip, and at the last second reached out instead and drew Tony forward by the collar until their lips met. The kiss was warm and firm like Tony’s arm around his back had been, and Luis could feel him smiling into it, apparently amused at getting caught by Luis’s own bit of flair. “It tastes good,” Luis murmured. “It tastes real good.”

“Is that right?” Tony whispered back. “Hey, stay where you are for a moment.”

Luis quirked an eyebrow but did what he was told, pitched comfortably forward on the stool with his elbows resting on the bar top. He watched the mirror as Tony ducked under the hatchway once more and came around to the club side, moving to stand behind him.

“All dressed up tonight.” Tony’s voice was a low rumble in his ear, breath tickling against the smooth shave of Luis’s hairline. He was running his palms over Luis’s back, hands tracing his shoulderblades through the thick material of his jacket, and Luis flexed a little under the touch. “Nice suit, _very_ nice muscles, and this”—Tony pressed his lips to Luis’s neck, kissing the hinge of his jaw before shifting to nip at his earlobe and agitate the diamond stud Luis wore there—“is right up my alley.”

“It should be,” Luis breathed, mind suddenly heady with arousal from the feel of Tony’s hands and mouth on him. “You paid for that sparkler.”

“Past me had exquisite taste and a better financial situation than today,” Tony replied ruefully. Then he reached around Luis’s chest and eased the button of the jacket undone, pulling the fabric out of the way so he could slip his hand in against the soft cotton t-shirt he was wearing underneath. His fingers traced the firm outline of Luis’s abs, encouraging him to straighten up and lean into the warmth of his body. Tony wasn’t as tall as him when they stood toe to toe, but with Luis seated like this, Tony could frame him easily, arms encircling him and hands exploring the cut of his muscles in ways that were making Luis feel simultaneously flushed and like he needed to spread his legs open wider.

“That’s it, lean back on me.” Tony’s breath fanned hot across his ear, and the faint hint of whiskey and sharp aftershave up close was so familiar that Luis could’ve closed his eyes and lost himself in thinking of the countless times he’d inhaled that scent. Tony’s hand was dipping down to cup his fly now, nudging Luis’s thighs apart, and he hummed approvingly as Luis swelled hard under his touch. “You want to get the real V.I.P. treatment?” Tony asked him.

Luis’s affirmation caught in his throat but Tony didn’t wait to hear him say it, giving him a rough kiss to the neck and a teasing stroke through the material of his pants instead, fingers rippling over the thick bulge and feeling for the angle he was at. Luis did close his eyes then, his own grip finding the edge of the bar top as Tony began to palm and stroke him in earnest, the friction from the layers of cotton making everything just that little bit hotter everywhere his fingers touched.

“Gonna split these pants like this,” Luis warned him.

“Humblebrag,” Tony murmured, immediately going back to kissing and nipping at his jawline, the quick pressure of teeth and lips on Luis’s skin making him arch and bare his neck for Tony even more.

“I’m not kidding,” he tried again. “If you don’t open that zipper they’re getting ruined one way or another…”

Tony’s hand stilled for a second, then snaked to the metal clasp of Luis’s belt and flicked it open, expertly slipping the fastening of his pants undone and taking the zip down to let his cock tent out the looser material of his boxers. “Better now?”

“Oh yeah. Smooth moves, T.”

“Like I said: fast hands.” As if to punctuate the point, Tony was already working his way inside the fly of the shorts and taking hold of Luis fully, putting skin to skin and stroking him just the way he liked it. The heat of his touch was intense in the small space, and Luis could feel the rest of his body reacting like embers catching fire, warmth spreading out and little sparks of pleasure radiating into the pit of his stomach. Tony was still nuzzling and sucking at his neck and Luis couldn’t help imagining those lips playing over his cock as well, licking and teasing at the tip just like the pad of his thumb was circling there now.

“Fuck, Tony. Ain’t nobody can get to me as fast as you,” Luis told him, the familiar intimacy of coming apart under his touch making him unembarrassed about how quickly he was slicking up Tony’s fingers and already starting to rock into his grip.

“Show me how good it feels,” Tony replied, voice low with arousal and how close they were to each other, and Luis could guess that he was watching their reflection. It must have made a dirty picture: his hands flexing on the bar while Tony’s worked out of sight; his eyes closed and breath coming heavy through parted lips while Tony whispered a stream of encouragements and obscenities that made his mind swim. Tony was stroking him fast and firm, getting him there with a rhythm as irresistible as if Luis had been doing this himself, and when his body finally tensed and shuddered with overwhelming pleasure, Tony held his weight and kept him steady.

They stayed like that for a moment, until Luis let himself crack a grin and opened his eyes to find Tony’s sparkling back at him in the mirror. His partner’s expression was something more than fond, and as Tony stepped away to get a napkin and clean his hand, Luis wondered if he was aware of just how obvious that was. Hell, maybe he looked the same…

“So, how’d you like that bar service? Was it V.I.P. enough for you?” Tony picked up one of the forgotten cocktails and took a long sip while he waited for Luis to make a show of thinking about it.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d probably go above thirty percent for that, Tone. I feel like I really got the personal touch.”

“Well, now I know why this place doesn’t make a profit! Thirty? Everyone’s a cheapskate in this town.”

“It’s a global recession, what can I say? But, uh, you want I should throw a little ‘payment in kind’ your way?”

Tony took another drink, the sparkle lingering in his expression. “Drive me home first, and then you can take your turn at helping us forget about the disaster ball that is our existence at the moment. Go lock up the office and I’ll finish up here.” He indicated the mess they’d left around the bar.

“I can give you some help with that, too,” Luis offered.

“Come on, L - you can't be cleaning up empties! You’re a V.I.P., remember?” Tony winked at him. “So zip up your pants and meet me outside in five. Something tells me this isn’t gonna end up such a slow night after all.”

 

-fin.


End file.
